The Irken Lament
by Desdemona Kakalose
Summary: There's no controling things you take for granted, and in the end, all we can do is remember... your last hope, my last barrier, all our battles and dreams... all interred with the corpse. It is the living who have lost. ZADR if you look for it. Gaz.


**I'm taking a break from Tick For Tack and posting this little story. Funny thing... the whole chalupa started with my sister saying "I betcha can't write a good poem with the word 'Nigh'!"**

**But I think I proved her wrong... And made her cry.**

* * *

The Irken Lament...

"The Land has eyes unclouded  
No bias knows the Sky"  
These words are writ in mountain stone  
and read as death draws Nigh

Life is split by half:  
to fight for Love or Hate  
and every man will one day choose  
of the two, one fate.

Battles- they are fought  
But Wars are never won  
Any Mortal's life may end  
But that _does not _mean he's done.

So left and lost are paths,  
And only words may live,  
And when the pale of death has risen,  
Lament is all we can give:

He chose his truth and lived it-  
loved and feared the Land,  
So I pray the Heavens meet him  
with eyes that understand…

It is the _living _who have lost

* * *

The service was short and sparsely attended. A few guilty classmates, family and the parent's friends. 

There was a minister too, despite his father's ardent anti-religion-pro-science policy.

It was early fall, not yet cold and the leaves only beginning to change color. Wind blew morosely, the black tent top rippling in the gust.

One boy stood aside, with the air of someone who would rather be anywhere else. His startling green skin grew paler by the second, the wind fluttering his short, much-too-shiny raven hair. A man announced from the podium in a booming voice "Zim!", and the boy's blueberry eyes turned towards the stage.

Zim stood and strode forward, past a tall man in a white lab coat, past a brunet in braces, past a magenta-haired girl, who seemed to be carved of stone for all the life she showed.

The green boy peered over the top of the wooden stand and cleared his throat.

"The Dib was… a worthy opponent. He was brave and fought hard for what he believed. I have known the Dib since I came here…" he glanced nervously at the tall scientist.

"…From my homeland. The Dib took an _interest_ in my people, so it is fitting that our Funeral right is engraved on his tomb. He saw what others did not. He saw this." The strange boy vaguely gestured to himself.

"But the most important thing in my life was Dib, and Zim was, obviously, the most important thing in his." The ghost of a smirk flitted across his features.

"And I do not understand how his own _people_ could do such a thing! Here, in this plane—_land_… your fellow hyumans fight, abuse and KILL each other. It's stupid! Zim is sickened that his Dib was taken this way." He spat, simmering with inhuman rage.

"The world owes him more than they will ever understand. So now, all we can do is remember what he was: a great warrior, the likes of which this world will never see again."

He stepped down and shook his head, eyes narrowed. He muttered under his breath things like "asking to be destroyed" and "don't understand". The purple-haired girl felt a withering look cast in her direction.

The service wound down, and the fateful words were spoken.

"_Ashes to ashes,_

_Dust to dust…"_

One by one, the guests stood to leave as the tent was pulled down and the cheap plastic seats folded up.

They filtered through the gates, until only the indifferent girl and the green mourner stood, alone, in front of Dib's grave. Within moments, there was nothing to show of Dib's final honor, save a wad of dirty cash in the pocket of a pay-by-the-hour evangelist.

"Sickening." Zim hissed, drawing a half-hearted glare from his companion. "Sickening that of all the filthy life forms on this planet, the ONE intelligent being had to be the one taken. A _volxan_ on you all!" Zim shouted.

His boot slammed into a nearby stone, shoving it off-center.

"And you! You and Zim, we are the only beings alive who know the truth… I vow VENGANCE! No more of this… _mercy…_you will pay, and you will see what he has done for you!"

"Why are 'Heaven' and 'Land' capitalized?" the girl interrupted, voice emotionless and eyes all but closed.

"W—What?" the suspicious boy stuttered, snapping back into reality. "In the Lament?"

The girl gave a barely perceptible nod.

"In old Irken mythology, there were two main Gods: the planet and the sky. We long since abandoned our Gods—we are gods ourselves, now—but we keep the work as it is. Irkens live in loyalty, from the moment we hatch to the moment of death and beyond."

He frowned for a moment, thinking.

"It's still here because we honor our ancestors, our fallen heroes... soldiers… Dib, too, was a soldier. The greatest warrior to grace this dirt-ball planet." He sighed and sat down.

"The Dib knew loyalty, yes, he had honor as well—even when his people worked so hard to rip it away. And Zim… Zim will remember this. Zim will remain loyal even in Death. The military… the military taught…"

The green boy's face remained the same, but his eyes filled with something much like tears, only blue and much thicker.

"The military taught us to never… to never fear death, to never see the end as losing the battle." He glared at the stone and the girl looked away.

"Then no one won your fight…" she observed in a monotone. "…'It is the living who have lost'."

"I never once told him I loved him, you know." Her voice bitter as lemon peels.

Zim looked up at her, eyes forcibly dried and rigid posture restored.

"You… When you take over the planet, remind them—Remind them every _single_ day—that he could have saved them."

Her inhuman companion widened his eyes in astonishment and she fully opened her eyes for the first time in hours.

"I'm not gonna stop you. I always knew, but I didn't care… and I never will, as long as you _swear_ that you will plunge them—_all_ of them—into a nightmare world from which there is no waking."

"You have Zim's word," he agreed immediately.

She turned and ghosted away, perfectly silent in her clunky steel toed boots. Evanescence was her specialty, drifting into the encroaching mist like a specter. Perhaps that was all she ever was. She was the thought, her brother the fire.

Wind passed through the conqueror's lightly clad form, and he tensed, but did not shiver.

As leaves around him fluttered and danced across his late enemy's grave, a breeze passed by whispering in a painfully familiar voice. If he strained his being, he could almost hear the words….

_Don't forget me… never forget me._

"Loyal to the end," he breathed, resting his head on his legs.

One leaf fluttered over the yellowed grass, jumping to a melancholy beat unheard by human ears… other ears, though…

Weakly, it pressed into the stone, like a lost soul searching for its way home.

"'To fight for love or hate,'" Zim read, looking around. When he was sure no one could see, the blue tears filled his eyes again.

"And which did you fight for, Dib-human?"

* * *

**Wow… I believe I made myself cry. Even though it's not really that sad…**

**Remember, Gaz has seen Zim's base multiple times, and often admitted that he is an alien. There's no point in pretending by now.**

**And we've never seen Zim sad, so I had to just work off his basic personality. It's one of those things that are up for interpretatio**n. **I'd call this a ZADR, but I supose it doesn't have to be.**

"...I'm down to just one thing, and I'm starting to scare myself... you'll make this all go away... you'll make this all go away..." _-something I can never have, _Nine Inch Nails


End file.
